“Jitty,” I called my ancestral haint. “Jitty, I need you.”
Outside, a tree limb brushed against the window and I bolted out of my seat. When I picked up the chair I’d knocked over and looked around the room, my heart lurched again. A woman in a dark dress, white apron tied at the waist, stood in the doorway.
“That’s not the way Mrs. DeWinter does it,” she said in a severe tone that matched her hair pulled tight in a bun at the back of her neck.
By the time I recognized Jitty, I thought I was in the first stages of a heart attack. “If you weren’t already dead, I’d be tempted to kill you.”
“You’re a poor imitation of Rebecca,” she said, walking around me and examining me as if I were a hunk of rancid beef. “So callow. So young and desperate to please.”
“Damn it, that’s not funny.” I was steamed. “And those aren’t even the lines from the movie. You’re just making that up.”
Jitty laughed. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said.
It was pointless to get angry with her. She was having a blast playing Mrs. Danvers from the movie based on Daphne du Maurier’s book, Rebecca. “I would have thought you’d want the role of the ingenue. Joan Fontaine was quite pretty in the film. Mrs. Danvers was old and mean.”
“Mrs. Danvers had all the best moments in the film. She was really creepy. But I have to say, it would be nice to kiss Sir Laurence Olivier. Maybe I’ll put that on my to-do list.”
Even if I was still angry with her, I was glad to have company, especially a spirit who was on my side.
“You look peaked, Sarah Booth. What’s wrong?” she asked.
This time I was determined to press her. “Is there another spirit in this house?”
Jitty took a seat at the kitchen table, unpinned her hair, and let it fall around her shoulders. “I don’t know if I can answer that question.”
“Can’t or won’t.” I was still a bit testy. “I saw a woman upstairs. I’ve seen her before, but never that close. She said I was going to die.”
Worry shifted across Jitty’s face, and when she looked up at me, I thought I saw a tear in the corner of her eye. “Sarah Booth, there are bad spirits as well as good ones. There are those who stay behind to exact revenge, or because they lost their way. They’re confused and they can lash out.”
The hair on my arms was standing straight up. “Is there such a spirit in this house?” I asked.
“What do you believe?”
“I don’t know.”
“And that’s why I can’t help you. If you told anyone about me, they’d think you were crazy.”
“But-”
She held up a hand to stop me so that she could continue. “Whatever I say, you’ll believe, because you believe in me. You’ve walked a long way to bein’ a grown-up woman, and this is a road only you can walk. You have to decide.”
“But-”
She stood up abruptly. “Listen to your heart, Sarah Booth. And while you’re at it, listen to your womb. That good-lookin’ man is offerin’ to plant a crop. I foresee a mighty fine harvest.”
And before I could even protest, she was gone and I heard the front door open on the click-click of Tinkie’s high heels.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Chablis was so excited to see us!” Tinkie bustled into the kitchen, unloading a shopping bag filled with tequila. “I thought we’d have some drinks tomorrow, before everyone started leaving. Sort of an end of shooting in Petaluma party.”
Even in Costa Rica, Tinkie was the perfect hostess. She thought of the things I should have done. As a failed Daddy’s Girl, I was smart to have partnered up with her.
Graf had also been pulled into her plans. “I told Tinkie I’d man the grill. Maybe some shrimp and steaks. This place is paradise, and we need to bid it farewell in style.” Graf was so handsome, it hurt to look at him. He’d become the man I needed him to be.
“That sounds like fun.” I was still trying to accept that we would leave this house without resolving the mystery of the ghostly presence and who’d been hurting my friends and the crew.
“And the best news is that Chablis may be able to be here with us,” Tinkie added. “The doctor said if she continues to heal at this pace, she’ll be released tomorrow afternoon.”
“That’s wonderful!” I grabbed my friend and almost picked her up in a hug. Now that was something to celebrate.
“Did you discover anything from Ricardo?” Tinkie asked as she began to help tidy up the kitchen.
I told them about his journal and the marijuana. “No serious drugs. No amphetamines or things like that.”
“No prescriptions?” Graf asked.
I shook my head. “I think his mood swings are emotional. He’s worried about Estelle.”
“While we were in town, I stopped by Estelle’s apartment. Regena still hasn’t heard from her, and now she’s getting worried,” Graf said.
“She was very willing to talk to Graf,” Tinkie said, a teasing note in her voice. “She would have told him anything he asked, I think.”
“I have a very effective interrogation technique,” Graf said.
“You have a handsome face, a beautiful body, and a way with the women,” Tinkie responded. “We could use that at Delaney Detective Agency.”
Tinkie looked as if she wanted to take the words back, but she couldn’t. There it was, the question that we each knew had to be faced eventually. Was I an actress or a private investigator?
“Almost all of the television PIs are handsome.” Graf was doing his best to patch the silence. “Magnum, Rockford. A man can have good DNA and a brain.”
“Both of those stars are delicious,” Tinkie agreed, “but are they really intelligent? I mean, can a man be both things at once?” She hid her smile as she began pouring liquor in a blender. “This isn’t the time to worry about tomorrow. Where are we going for dinner?”
I hadn’t told them about the woman in red at the staircase, or what she’d said to me, and as I took the margarita that Tinkie offered me, I debated whether I should. The problem was, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. She’d been a terrifying presence.
“Are you okay, Sarah Booth?” Graf asked.
“I need to speak to Daniel Martinez. He was mentioned in Ricardo’s journal. While you two get ready for dinner, I’m going to find him. It won’t take ten minutes.”
Graf and Tinkie exchanged a glance I couldn’t read. “He was at the gate when we came in,” Graf offered.
“I’ll wait for you there. And I’m starving.” Still clutching my drink, I headed out the front door and down the drive to the gates.
I saw Daniel’s silhouette standing in the doorway of the small office where a security guard checked vehicles in and out. Since the last days of filming had gone without incident, most of the paparazzi had moved on to fresher meat. Without the scent of tragedy or scandal, they had nothing to follow, so they’d left.
I recognized Daniel from a good distance away, and I slowed my pace as I realized he was talking to someone on a cell phone.
When I got close enough to hear what he was saying, he saw me and snapped shut the phone.
“Ms. Delaney, what can I do for you?” he asked.
“Tell me about Estelle.”
“I believe she’s returned to California,” he said. The man was smooth, I had to give him that.
“Really,” I said with a hint of sarcasm. “Do you know that for a fact?”
Concern slipped into the furrow between his eyebrows. He cleared his expression with an effort. “Her father told me she’d returned to Malibu. I haven’t seen her hanging around the house.”
“And would you report it if you had?” I asked.
He knew I was on to him, and in the light from the guard booth, I watched him decide how to play his hand. “So you know Estelle and I are… friends.” It was a statement, not a question.